


alone (but that’s okay)

by xHeyKYJx



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Bambam POV, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, this is the way I feel around literally everyone hahasob, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 03:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13918233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHeyKYJx/pseuds/xHeyKYJx
Summary: Bambam is alone during a slow dance, but Yugyeom makes it better.





	alone (but that’s okay)

It's been long night of dancing, drinks, and blaring music, and honestly, Bambam just wants to go home and take a nice, long shower and go to sleep. He doesn't feel well at all (probably from alcohol consumption) and he's hungry and tired and just all around miserable. He's standing by the drink table, a half-full (more like half-empty) red cup in one hand and the other in his pocket as he broods, refusing to look at anyone who stops by for more "punch." His band members are nowhere in sight and he's starting to feel so bad he could cry and he's thinking that this can't get worse--

And then it does.

The loud, ear-grating music suddenly stops and then a nice, steady bass is cutting in through the brief silence, sending a low, steady vibration through Bambam's bones. He's confused at first, as are others surrounding him, and then a thin, feminine voice is flowing through the speakers and people are pairing up and Bambam understands.

It’s a slow dance.

He looks down, squeezing his eyes shut. No one will want to dance with him and that's fine. That's _fine_. He was never good at that shit anyways, and it's not like he actually like-likes anyone here, so it's all worked out. And yet, here he is, throat constricting, eyes burning because he's alone and he's a wuss and nobody likes him. Honestly, he can't say he blames them. He doesn't like himself, either.

The thought summons a heavy, crashing wave of hopelessness and then his thoughts are spiraling downwards, neverending. He's always going to be alone. No one will ever love him, and even if they do, he can't hold up a relationship. God, why is he even here? Maybe he'll leave. Maybe he's just gonna walk home   
/ _alone_ /  
and bring a kitchen knife to his hips like he always does when this hopelessness threatens to crush him, ruin his existence and send him running to his grave. Maybe he won't go home at all. Maybe someone will attack him and rape him or drug him or kill him. He doesn't care. He just can't stay here  
/ _alone_ /  
anymore. He has to get out of here.

“Bambam?"

His eyes shoot open and tears spill out over his cheeks. He rubs them away violently, the cuffs of his tux chafing his skin as he turns around.

“Hey, Gyeom." He smiles wearily. Yugyeom smiles back, and Bambam knows he can see the redness of his cheeks and eyes, but he doesn't mention it. God, what did he ever do to deserve such a good friend?

Yugyeom comes around and stands next to his best friend, arms crossed over his flat chest as he watches countless couples sway slowly to the music, stepping to the rhythm of the drums. 

“Aren't you gonna dance?" Yugyeom asks him, and Bambam can see his eyes piercing the side of his face, expecting an answer. "Aren't you?" Bambam shoots back and Yugyeom huffs a little laugh.

”Well, yeah, with you."

Bambam blinks a few times and his eyelashes clump together because of the tears on them. "I- what?"

Yugyeom sniffs a grin at him. "What, you really thought I was just gonna leave you here, crying by the drink table? What kind of a friend would that make me?"

And Yugyeom kneels, hand extended toward Bambam. His grin shrinks into a shy smile and _Christ_ , his eyes are so bright and hopeful and he's looking at Bambam like he's the best thing on the face of the Earth and Bambam can't help but notice how the dim lighting hits his face perfectly and makes him fucking glow like he's an angel or some shit. Maybe he is.

”May I have this dance?" Yugyeom whispers. Bambam can't hear him over the bass and the drums, but he’s staring at Yugyeom’s lips, impossibly pink and soft-looking.

“I think I love you,” Bambam whispers. Yugyeom leans forward a little bit. “What did you say? Yes, I hope.”

Bambam shifts from foot to foot. He almost feels disappointed that Yugyeom didn’t hear him, but then he thinks about the consequences if he had. “Uh, y-yeah, I guess.”

Before he knows what’s happening, Bambam is mere inches from Yugyeom’s  
face, filling his lungs with the younger’s warm, musky scent that reminds Bambam sea-glass green, for some reason. Yugyeom’s hands are firm yet so unmistakably soft at Bambam’s lower back and in his right hand, and Bambam is self conscious because Christ, are his hands clammy, but the way Yugyeom smiles at him makes him forget. Here he is,  
/ _alone_ /  
with Yugyeom and yet not. Sure, there are hundreds of people around them dancing exactly the way they are, but this feels different. Special, somehow. It’s just Bambam and Yugyeom, Yugyeom and Bambam  
/ _alone_ /  
and that’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> This is seriously word vomit. Anyway, lol  
> I hope you enjoyed this! Love ya~


End file.
